


In Dark Places

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Biting, Bleeding, Blood, Branding, Choking, Cutting, Degradation, Delayed Orgasm, Edging, F/M, Licking, Praise, Teasing, ceiling fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27870270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Summary: Papa makes you a deal for a special experience that leads you to a small, hidden away Chapel on the ground of the Abbey. Once there, a shadow demon hoists you away into a sexual encounter you never thought you’d be a part of.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Papa Emeritus IV/Reader, shadow demon/reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	In Dark Places

The corridor is darker than you anticipated, and your need for a light source is quickly turning into an active desire. Your head hurts slightly with a throb that only intensifies everytime you squint your eyes in another attempt to pierce through the darkness beyond. The stone walls of the Abbey are unyielding as you guide your hand across the surface, fingers tapping along in search of a door you know to be there. Rain and Mountain had told you about it days ago, and your search for the hidden and sequestered chapel (which came from good sources, you reassure yourself) has taken the better part of a week. 

Finally, your hand slides across a door frame in the wall. Cold oak gives way to colder steel brackets that line the center of the door and lead to a handle. You grip it tightly and take a deep breath, swinging the door open towards yourself with a grunt as it gives way. As you step inside the small room, two things become abundantly clear to you: someone else was recently here, and the room is much smaller than the Ghouls told you in your conversations.

The room itself is cozy enough-- about the size of your dorm room. At the front is a stone altar with a purple velvet cloth draped over it haphazardly. It’s clear that this room hasn’t been used in many years, or is only used by the penitent Sibling looking for a quick absolution in private. As usual for the Abbey, a large statue of Baphomet sits at the front of the room with ruby inset eyes. Between his hooves is a single black candle-- already lit and flickering welcomingly. 

“Hello?” You call out quietly to the empty room, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you with as light of a sound as possible. When no answer comes, you move forward and approach the small altar. Only a slight feeling of unease and trepidation runs its way down your spine, but the intrigue you feel outweighs them both. The candle is only barely burnt down, some of the wax only just now starting its slow and molasses like trek down the side of the black nub.

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head to dispel the borderline-scary thoughts that were attempting to make themselves at home in your mind. Your eyes latch onto the flame as you watch it dance and curl. The movement is almost hypnotic, and you find yourself backing up just enough to take a seat on an old and dilapidated pew to continue watching it. Now seems to be as good a time as any to commune with your Lord-- after all, that’s why Mountain and Rain had told you about this room in the first place, right?

You bow your head reverently and close your eyes, taking a deep breath and grounding yourself on the dusty pew before whispering your words of prayer. The faintest hint of clove reaches you as you breathe, and your brows furrow as you try to focus on the odd scent. The candle itself doesn’t have a scent to it; you recognize it as one of the ones that Papa keeps burning around the Abbey for light. Another breeze from seemingly nowhere reaches you and carries with it, this time, the stronger scent of clove and mahogany. Just as the new combination of smells reaches your nose, a warm burst of air hits your face. Your eyes fly open. 

Nothing or no one is standing in front of you, and your view of the flickering candle and the shining, glinting eyes of Baphomet are unobscured. The statue seems to be watching you, and you can’t help but feel uneasy under its cool and unblinking stare. You shift uncomfortably on the wooden and dusty pew, your shoes scuffing some debris on the floor as you readjust. Prayer in mind, you close your eyes once more and take another stabilizing breath. Just as you get comfortable once more, another waft of warm air hits you, this time carrying the slight scent of leather. You take another deep breath and dip your head slightly, screwing your eyes shut tighter and trying to focus on your prayer rather than giving in to whatever is lurking in the Chapel with you… Perhaps agreeing to your Papa’s new "game" was going to net you something sexier than you thought.

“Sssssister…” Your eyes fly open once more and instantly you lock onto a large shadow on the wall. A tall and horned creature seems to grow along the stonework, the shadow towering over you easily. A shadowy appendage whips back and forth beside him, and you realize after a moment that it’s a tail. The thing brings its hands up, gesturing towards you and you can see that its hands end in long, sharp claws. On shaking legs you stand up, backing up slowly towards the door as the figure points at you, a long and forked tongue flickering out of its mouth as if to taste your fear.

“Who are you?” you ask, silently grateful that your voice doesn’t quaver as much as you believed it would. Of their own accord, your hands drop down to gather your habit into your fists, squeezing tightly for comfort like you had done as a child. 

“I believe you made a deal with your Papa, yesss?” the thing on the wall hisses. In the flickering light of the candle he seems to grow larger, the shadow distending and warping as the flame grows. The tail whips back and forth with gusto as you nod, biting your own lip. “Rain gave you the invitation and you ssssought me out yourself, yesss?”

“Rain and… and Mountain told me about this chapel. I was curious, and I came to find it.” You pause and the thing’s head flickers along the wall-- he’s nodding. “My Papa told me that I could have something special when I came here. A… sexual something special.” You can feel the heated flush travel from your neck to your face and you’re briefly grateful for the darkness in the chapel. 

“Yesss… Come to me. Give me your ssssafe word and your sssoul in one.” He holds his hand out, the shadow distending and warping along the wall until it’s right beside you, and you reach out towards it. When your hand comes into contact with the wall you’re surprised to find that you can feel the shadow figure, his own long fingers curling over the back of your hand. You gasp as he tugs you, his free arm coming around your waist and hoisting you higher into the air than you thought possible. 

It’s only when his shadowy flesh touches your bare skin that you scream. He’s warm, hot to the touch and almost scalding in the way that his claws sear up your back, removing your clothing with a quick snip. It falls below you in a crumpled heap as he pulls you higher up the wall, dragging your tights down and off of your legs in the same heated and forceful motion. Another startled gasp leaves your lips as he hauls you higher up the wall, leaving the floor a dizzying distance below. His fingers glide beneath your panties as he tears them off and you watch the thin material flutter to the ground. 

“Oh my God--” you choke out as the shadow figures fingers slip and slide along your folds, only just teasing your entrance. He hisses in negation of your statement as the pad of one finger circles your clit, tantalizingly close to pleasure but dancing just away from it. Despite your desire to appear strong and unwavering, you whimper in need as your hips push towards the feeling. 

He grunts as he presses you against the high, vaulted ceiling of the chapel and you feel the stone against your shoulder blades. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the potential fall to the stones below as your lips part, panting breaths heaving between them as his finger slides inside of you and cants upward. As if drawn to it like a magnet his finger grazes just perfectly against the spot inside of you that makes you keen, and your back arches against the ceiling as you pant. 

“Jusssst like that, eh? You love being fucked like a ssslut like this.” You nod and whine, twisting and moving your hips against his hand as you silently beg for more pleasure. He slips in another finger and you gasp, your brain struggling to comprehend what he says next. “You want to be marked for your Papa? To wear hissss name?” 

“I… I want… What?” You feel dizzy as your eyes slide open slowly, glimpsing the stone floor many meters away from you before looking to the side. The shadow figure has finally materialized into a solid enough form for you to see slightly glowing amber eyes. He leers at you, corporializing further as you watch. Once more you look towards the ground and fear strikes you before slamming your eyes shut again. The shadow presses you harder against the ceiling with one arm across your stomach, pinning you in place as that long forked tongue slithers between your breasts. 

“You wish… A mark?” He hisses in your ear as his tongue curls along your earlobe. The fingers of the hand on your hip tap a rhythm as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, thumb coming up experly to press and rub at the sensitive nub at the apex of your thighs. “Sssssomething to know that you are hissss? I can mark you.” His teeth scrape at your collar bone you finally glean on to his meaning. 

“Yes, yes! Mark me for my Papa!” You can feel your climax approaching and you whine in need as you attempt to push your hips into his hand. The whine turns into a shocked sound of pain as his teeth rip through your skin like a hot knife into butter, parting the flesh and leaving a bleeding wound in its place. You open your mouth to scream once more, only to have fingers shoved messily between your lips. A small whimper leaves you as you suck greedily on his fingers, the pain of the bite already forgotten even as the blood drips, sanguine and steady, onto the altar far below.

His fingers reach easily to the back of your throat and you gag hard, your eyes watering as he retracts them just slightly. He coos in your ear, soothing sounds before bringing his lips to your neck once more. You tense up just as he bites into you again-- not as hard as before, but enough for blood to well to the surface and spill from the torn skin. Hard and heavy breathes punch themselves out of your mouth around his fingers as your chest heaves, the pain causing your breathing to become labored. 

“You like?” the thing whispers to you. It’s a struggle, but you manage to nod and even swirl your tongue around his fingers as a show of appreciation. He hums his own pleasure back to you and leans in, pressing something hard and hot against your hip as he does so. “You want thissss?”

“Yes, God, yes. Please!” You can’t help the desperate and needy sounds that come out of your mouth, muffled as they are by his fingers. It takes a second of jostling but he gets himself over you easily enough and you feel something cock-like bumping at your entrance. He pauses and you huff out a whine, practically yelling, “Fuck me!” 

“Assss you wish.” With next to no warning, he slams his cock home inside of you to the hilt and you gasp in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his now free hand curls around your throat. “Open that pretty mouth,” he growls and pulls his fingers from your lips. You’re quick to obey, dropping your jaw and panting heavily through your mouth as his hand tightens around your throat. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you fast and hard as he squeezes. Your vision flickers slightly at the sides as you stare up (or rather, down) at him, your own breathing quieted to wheezing. Just before you succumb and fade to black he pulls his hand away from your throat, leaning swiftly to lick across the no-doubt already bruising skin. His tongue sears a line of fire across your throat and it only adds to the sensation, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. 

“I’m… I’m going to--” You cut yourself off and moan loudly, a long and drawn out sound as you approach that apex of pleasure. Except… You don’t cum. Instead, it feels as though you’re climbing up and up on a roller coaster-- never quite cresting the peak, but the pleasure just continues to rise with no breaking point. A fire has lit itself under your skin and the need to cum, and cum soon, is now an all consuming need. Your jaw begins to ache as you grit your teeth, trying to will yourself over that edge.

“I’m going to-- Ahaha! Papa hasss not allowed you, little bird.” The thing mocks you, waggling his forked tongue at you as he continues to pump away inside of you. It’s clear to you now, what Papa meant by asking you to join this little game. The shadow figure gets its pleasure from you, and you get to be a toy for it. 

“Fucking-- bite me!” you beg, pushing your hips towards the thing in an attempt to force him deeper inside of you. If you can just reach that pleasure point, you’re sure you can just-- Your thoughts are cut off as he does exactly what you ask, gripping your arm and bringing your wrist to his lips before sinking those devilishly sharp teeth into the soft skin there. Crimson blood runs its way down your arm in rivulets to splash on the altar below, adding to the blood that was already in situ. 

“You want to be marked? I’ll mark you in a way you’ll never fucking forget.” The figure leans over you, forcing eye contact as his thrusts never slow. His hands come out lightning quick to slam your wrists against the ceiling, holding you tightly to the old stone even as you wriggle and pant, twisting in your burning desire to cum. At the edge of your vision you see something whipping from side to side and finally remember the shadow figure has a tail. It wraps around your upper thigh completely and for a moment, everything is still. He pauses in his thrusts and looks down at you, cocking his head to the side as if waiting for something. You follow suit and even halt your breathing in anticipation. 

Then the pain hits. 

Where his tail has latched around you comes a burning, searing pain that feels as though it’s bone deep. A piercing and shrill sound hits your ears and you slowly come to the realization that it’s your screaming, mixed with the figure above you laughing. As the pain only seems to increase, the smell of burning flesh reaches your nose. Finally the tail falls away and you’re left heaving panting breaths as he resumes fucking you, his pace hurried and frantic. Just as he cums, pulling out of you and shooting his cum onto the altar below, the door to the Chapel opens. You have time to glimpse a blue robe before you’re hastily deposited onto the edge of the altar on your ass and the thing is gone. There’s a whisper of laughter in the corner of the room which seems to fade as Copia makes his way to you. 

“I see you met my present,” he says, unzipping his gloves and pulling them off. He tosses them onto the floor where they land with the sound of leather on stone, his hands next going to the clasps of his robe. “I had hoped he would be a bit more gentle… Though I do love my girls with garter belts.” His bare finger traces the line of the brand around your thigh and you jolt. Two-toned eyes match your gaze as he drops the robe behind him, revealing a white tank top over suit pants.

“You planned that?” you ask, your words breathy and hollow. Copia merely nods, bringing a finger under your chin and tilting your face towards his. His lips claim yours with a heated kiss as his tongue brushes against your lower lip. You part your lips for him and he sweeps in, one arm coming to wrap around your waist as he closes the gap between the two of you, stepping between your legs. 

“Is it a problem?” Copia whispers against your lips as he pulls back slightly, his hands coursing up your legs to your thighs. Your eyes stay half-lidded in reignited pleasure as you shake your head, balling your fists into his shirt and pulling him into your once more. He groans as his lips collide with yours again and his hands move farther up your body to cup one of your breasts.

“Fuck me,” you whisper in return when he pulls back once more. Confidence sparked anew you scoot back slightly on the altar, spreading your legs and lifting one foot onto the stone. “Fuck me Papa. Do what he couldn’t, and make me cum for you.” Copia’s tongue darts out to wet his lips before his hands move to his belt. The jingling of its opening does nothing to quell the surge of lust in you and your lips part as you pant, watching him pull his cock out through the opening. 

“As you wish, little bird.” Copia steps forward to lean over you until your back is flush with the altar, damp with your own blood. His hands come to your knees as he opens you for him further, pressing your legs back as he sinks into you slowly. The two of you moan in tandem as he bottoms out, his pelvis pressing flush against you as he grinds upward slightly. 

Copia stops momentarily, feeling his cock deep inside of you as his grip tightens on your legs and his eyes slide shut. The moment doesn’t last long, however, and he slides out of you deliciously slowly only to push back in. His thrusts gradually speed in tempo as he loses control of himself, and your legs bounce behind his back in time with his snapping hips. You squeeze yourself around him and he growls something to you, prompting you to do it again.

“Such a good little slut for Papa, aren’t you? You let yourself be fucked but you know that only I can make you cum, little bird,” he growls, pushing himself deeper inside of you as his belt jingles and clinks with every thrust. One of his hands leaves your legs and you hurry to replace it, gripping your own leg tightly and pulling it back for him. His fingers entwine into your hair and tug roughly, twisting your face to the side until it’s pressed against the altar. 

“Co-pi-a!” you shout between thrusts, the sound of skin-on-skin only growing increasingly louder as he loses himself in you. 

“You let something else fuck you and make you bleed… didn’t you?” You nod as best as you can as his hand presses your face harder into the fluids that saturate the altar-- further evidence of your foray with the shadow being. “My little slut… your Papa’s little slut, aren’t you? Say it!” Copia presses your face harder into the fluid before letting you go, his hand returning to your leg as he fucks into you.

“I’m your little slut, Papa!” you manage to get out between panting whines. The feeling of your climax is approaching once more, and you can feel your arousal ratcheting up and up as it had previously. This time, however, you know that you’ll be allowed to cum. “Papa, please… I need-- Your hand, I need--” Your words are quickly swallowed by Copia’s lips, pressing against yours intently as his hand snakes between the two of you to grab and press at your throat. 

He squeezes in just the right way that your pleasure finally peaks and crests the top, shattering your mind as you cum harder than you have before. Some small part of you recognizes that you’re laying under an antipope who’s pumping away inside of you as your cunt squeezes his cock-- but the other part of you has astral projected to Venus as you gasp and twist underneath him. As you come back to yourself you become aware that Copia has stopped moving and is panting above you, his hands caressing your body softly. 

“Mia dolce ghuleh, tesoro mio…” He whispers to you as his lips kiss every part of you that he can reach, hands gliding over your soft and sweat slicked skin. You lay for a moment, taking deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Now that the moment of your climax has passed, the ache has begun to set in in your muscles and you can feel the sting of the wounds. No doubt some sweat has gotten into them, making the sting and bite even worse. 

“Papa…”

“Yes?” Copia pauses in his kisses and looks up at you, two-toned eyes blinking owlishly at you now that his own arousal has down.

“Can we take a shower?”

Copia laughs loudly, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through your hair lovingly. He pulls you upright into a seated position and presses a soft and doting kiss to your forehead before picking up his robe off of the floor. You hop off of the altar and stagger slightly, a bit unsteady on your feet after being whirled through the air less than an hour ago. Copia drapes his robes over your naked body and fastens them in the front for you, taking your hand and guiding you out of the small Chapel.

“Anything for you, my little bird.”

**Author's Note:**

> Miss me?
> 
> Check my tumblr @gasolineghuleh for a special notice for the holidays.


End file.
